Heal Me
by EasyBlakeOven
Summary: In 1986, James Potter abruptly carried out a suicide bombing, forever changing the wizarding world. Ten years later, it's up to Harry to try and pick up the pieces. Dedicated to becoming a healer and curing his mother of her mysterious condition, Harry will have to contend with scorn, doubt, and depression as he struggles to help those around him, and find happiness for himself.


**Chapter One**

 **Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot belong to me. I am in no way associated with the owners/creators/or producers of Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Warning:** This story contains mature themes that may upset some readers, and is set in an alternate universe.

* * *

Stress, Harry thought, would surely be the death of him. This said a lot about the respect he paid stress, considering all of the other things in his life that could do him in, but while certainly more immediate, none of _those_ hazards had quite as much staying power as stress. It was as much a part of him as anything else. His problem, or so he'd been told before, was that he worried too damn much about everything.

Lily, his mother, moaned painfully in the hospital bed beside him.

Harry shifted uneasily in his chair, a pack of Camel Blacks crinkling in his pocket. The medical text he was hunched over had apparently joined forces with the flickering hospital lights above in a combined effort to give him a splitting headache. Blinking hard to keep the pain at bay, Harry sighed and turned the page. He'd graduated from high school a few months ago, but that didn't mean he could afford to stop studying. One more task to attend to.

It wasn't like he wanted to feel this way; he _tried_ to relax when he could, perfectly aware of the myriad of health concerns constant stress posed, but there were just too many things that needed to be done for him to take a break. It wasn't fair that, at just seventeen, he had to juggle as much shit as he did, but he'd made his peace with it long ago and was just trying to get through it now. The few things that made him happy kept him going, and if nothing else, listening to music usually helped, though with a migraine just one loud noise away, he decided to study in silence this time.

Another moan from his mother, this one a little louder than before, drew Harry's reluctant gaze to the bed.

She was... beautiful. And pathetic. Her skin was pale, from a decade spent almost entirely indoors, and her long red hair was limp. Her body, which had weakened without exercise, had half a dozen wires connecting it to a trio of machines opposite him. Even looking as weak as she did, she remained a willful woman. Harry's eyes still softened as hers fluttered.

"Harry?" she rasped, slowly opening her eyes, which were the same haunting shade of green as his own. "Are you there?"

"Here, mom," he called, standing up. He placed one calloused hand on her forehead, which was warm and wet with little beads of sweat. "Water?"

"No, sweetheart, that's okay."

He fetched a glass anyway.

"...thank you."

She drank quickly from a straw, emptying the cup before Harry could tell her to slow down.

Shaking his head, he took it from her and set it aside.

"What time is it, honey?" she asked, not making an effort to sit up. She did, however, turn to look at him.

 _She looks so tired..._

"Eight," he said, remorse creeping into his voice. "I have to go to work at ten..."

Lily's eyes softened as she turned away. "O-oh?" she asked pleasantly, turning back with a small smile. "Still helping out at the vet?"

Harry swallowed inconspicuously. "N-nah. I quit there yesterday, when I was sure I had this new job in the bag. I'm stocking for a Mini-Mart by the house now."

She looked concerned. "I thought you liked working for Dr. Amagi, Harry? And it would look good for Med School... Did something happen?"

 _Dying, sick-eyed dogs, howling in pain. Emaciated cats with their hair falling out. Families wailing over their dead pets._

"No, mom. Nothing happened," Harry said with a big smile. Leaning in conspiringly, he added, "There may or may not be a really cute girl who manages the Mini-Mart overnight, which may or may not have factored into it a little. I'm gonna be making a smidge more over there, too, if you can believe it."

Lily's face lit up. "Oh, you've got to tell me all about her! What's her name? Are you friends?"

 _Together almost every day for two months- long enough to start mentioning her. Twenty years old. Three suicide attempts in the last two years. Chronic depression. Moaning beneath him. Soft. Desperate to fill the void her parents left after a brutal car crash. Another selfish responsibility he'd taken on._

"Yeah. She's great, too. Her name's Jinx. Guess her parents were part of the goth movement or something. I was _convinced_ she was a witch the first time we met, but she's not. She wants to get a Master's Degree in Fine Arts, though, which is cool too. She likes to paint."

He had one of her works hanging back at home. It looked absolutely massive inside of his tiny apartment.

 _Dying, wilted tulips, losing their colors._

Lily's eyes shone with excitement as she listened to him talk. "That's great, honey. I'm so happy you found someone that appreciates you." Speaking more softly, she lowered her eyes and added, "I know how hard all of this has been for you, Harry. Eleven years next month..."

Harry's hands fisted below the edge of the bed.

Lily breathed a sigh, thick with words unsaid, and looked up at him. "I'm so proud of you, Harry. Of the man you've become. James would be too-"

"Thanks mom," Harry cut in stiffly, staring past her.

Lily's eyes widened, softened, and then lowered. "Mmm," she hummed.

Silence filled the air.

 _Good job. Some 'man' you are._

Lily's eyes bounced around the room as she searched for anything to say. She blinked as something came to her, and slowly began. "Anyway, while I'm still awake, I wanted to ask you about that thing..."

"Huh?" Harry asked, and then guessed, "Hogwarts?"

"Yes. Honey, I know you're dead set on going, and it's not my place to nag, but..."

 _Not your place to nag? Who's place is it then? Honestly._

Harry closed his eyes and smiled. "It'll be okay. I know that after... after... Well, at any rate, I'm not expecting a warm welcome." Opening his eyes and seeing that his words weren't having the desired effect on his mother, Harry was quick to stammer, "N-not that it bothers me! I'll have so much work to do once I get there- I won't have time to make friends anyway, and I'll only be there during the day so I'll still be able to come and see you, and it's just for the tail end of seventh-year classes- uh..."

Harry forced himself to stop talking.

Lily sighed and grabbed her arm at the elbow, looking down. "As long as you're sure, Harry, I won't try and stop you." She looked back up at him. "Even so, you _do_ know that you'll be behind the other kids your age, right? They'll have had six whole years to study magic. I know you're really advanced in some aspects, but..."

"Don't worry so much," Harry said, a soft look in his eye. "I'm not as far behind as you think. What do you think I do with my spare time?"

Lily looked up at him, an indiscernible emotion growing in her eyes. Her voice was measured as she asked, "Between work and your studies and taking care of me, is that really how you spend your spare time? Practicing healing magic?"

Harry couldn't get a read on his mother, and so answered truthfully.

"Yeah, but, well, you know I like learning about that stuff anyway, so it's no big deal. It's interesting, seeing how muggles and magicals approach healing in different ways. I think learning both will make me a better doctor- er, healer, in the long run. I've actually made a few breakthroughs of my own because of that. It's a much better use of my time than playing sports or going to parties would be."

Lily looked at Harry like she wanted to scream something, but instead of doing so, ultimately turned away.

 _What did I do wrong this time?_

When she looked back, her eyes no longer held any hidden feelings, drawing a silent sigh from Harry.

"Tell me about how things are at home," she asked abruptly. "Does the couple next to you still argue all night long? Are you eating properly? Brushing your teeth after meals?"

 _Geeze mom..._

A pleased blush crept up Harry's cheeks. "Honestly, mom, I was just here yesterday. Don't you think it's a bit much to keep asking all of these questions every time?"

Lily's lips pursed into a pout. "Of course not."

Harry laughed and walked back to where he'd been sitting before, grabbing a bag full of take-out off of the ground as he answered Lily's questions one by one.

"Samantha and Daniel are getting along better now." _If having constant hate-sex can be considered better than arguing._ "And I've been eating more than usual lately." _Liar._

"And your teeth?" Lily teased.

"Brushing your teeth is something little kids do," Harry said seriously, drawing a shocked look from his mother. Pulling his study chair closer to her, he set their food down on her bed and deadpanned, "Joking."

Lily let out a sigh of relief, holding a hand to her chest. Looking down at the food, she used the bed's remote to incline into a sitting position. Taking a delicate sniff, she hedged, "Mexican?"

Harry looked at her with overstated disappointment. "How is your nose so bad? I got Chinese; beef and broccoli for me, orange chicken and rice for you."

"But I like beef and broccoli better," she lamented, reaching a hand out toward's Harry's supper.

"Liar," Harry said, snapping at her hand with his chopsticks. "You hate broccoli."

"Oh," Lily sighed dramatically. "You remembered? What a good boy I have."

 _She's in a playful mood today._

"Just eat," he said, smothering a grin.

"Fine, fine," Lily said, slowly opening the container he'd set on her lap. "Thank you for dinner."

"Mmm," Harry hummed, his mouth full of food.

Lily reached into the bag by her side and blindly pulled out a handful of napkins and utensils. Setting the chopsticks down with a brief, forlorn look, Lily began slowly forking small bites of the sticky orange chicken to her mouth, shaky but self-capable.

Harry pretended that he didn't notice her difficulty, and Lily sent him a grateful smile in return.

 _She'll say if she's too tired._

The two spent the next couple minutes in companionable silence, each pecking away at their respective dishes until they were too full to continue.

"You've still got some left," Lily pointed out.

"So do you," Harry countered, beginning to put their leftovers away. "I'll eat the rest when I get off work."

"Mmm," Lily hummed.

Picking up on something, Harry turned from replacing the take-out containers in the bag. "Everything okay?"

 _Stupid, stupid question._

Lily didn't seem to take offense, though. Instead, she took a deep, fortifying breath and locked her gaze forwards, staring at the wall.

"Harry... I didn't want to say this before now because I thought you were too young to hear it, and because you're always trying so hard for me. It's just... when you go to Hogwarts, and then after that. If you, well, if you don't find what you're looking for, I just want you to know that I'll still love you."

 _If I don't find a way to fix you? What?_

"I know I'm not the best mother, but just," she tried, fisting the sheets that had pooled around her waist weakly. "Just, say that you already knew that. For me, please?"

Harry's eyes widened dangerously, and his breath caught in his chest.

"It's a parent's job to believe in their kid, so of course I think you'll find a way, but I need you to know that, even if I never make it out of this bed, that's okay. You believe that, right, Harry?"

His chest hurt, like someone was crushing him.

 _"Even if I never make it out of this bed, that's okay...?" Mom... never getting out of bed? Okay? She thinks that?_

He grit his teeth together, trying to understand what she was saying.

"Y-you can't really be saying that you'd be satisfied with that..."

Lily turned to look at him quickly, her eyes widening at his tone.

"To never get better? To stay trapped? In _here? Forever?!_ "

He took a blind step backwards, sending his chair crashing to the ground and shaking his head.

Lily's heart tore at his misunderstanding, and she reached a hand out towards him desperately.

He kept out of arm's reach, hunched over, holding his elbows.

 _Two pools of blood became one, and inched closer and closer towards him._

"If you don't even care, then why? Why? Why have I been trying so hard all this time..."

"Harry," Lily cried, tears streaming down her face. The familiar feeling of crushing weakness and fatigue was pulling at her again, and she cursed her condition's bad timing. "That's not it, honey," she wept, finally recapturing Harry's eyes as her arm went limp, no longer strong enough to stretch it out. "All I meant," she said, whispering now, eyes drooping dangerously. "Is that... despite... anything... I'm happy... to... to..."

Darkness had overtaken almost all of her vision, and her brain was working very slowly, but the sight of Harry's wet eyes, so much like her own, gave Lily the strength to finish her thought.

"To be able to call myself your mother."

With that, she was asleep. He knew from a decade of experience that she wouldn't wake again until the following afternoon at the earliest. He knew that she couldn't stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. He knew these things, but in that moment he wasn't thinking of them. In that moment he was thinking about the mess he'd caused. The moment he'd ruined. The look of desperation on her weeping face as she fell unconscious, unsure if he'd heard her.

 _Mom... Forgive me. I misunderstood._

He stood there crying for another couple minutes in silence, until he caught sight of the room's clock in his peripheral vision. According to it's black hands, he was already late for work. Drying his eyes with his sleeves, Harry hurried to get ready, stuffing the rest of his things inside a bookbag. Before he left, he made sure to lower Lily's bed back down, and to tuck her arm back in. Looking back upon her unconscious form with the promise to make it up to her, Harry turned and left the room, sprinting towards his newest job, his mother's words echoing in his head as he ran.

 _"Despite anything, I'm happy to be able to call myself your mother."_

* * *

By the time Harry arrived at work he was almost fifteen minutes late. The run over left him sweaty and short of breath.

 _Need to exercise more._

Jinx looked up from behind the counter when he walked in, a mechanical jingle playing throughout the store. He normally found her enchanting, with her cute, thin figure, long dark hair, tired brown eyes, and honest (if rare) smile. He found her handful of tattoos to be striking as well- especially the ones you couldn't see with her clothes on. Catching his breath, he watched her face change as she recognized him.

There was nothing attractive about the foul look she was aiming his way now.

"Decided to show up after all? Or are you here for a soda?" she asked, hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed bitterly as she waited for his response.

 _There are rings around her eyes..._

"Sorry," Harry said, walking around the counter towards the back room, looking to change and drop off his backpack. "I just got a little caught up with some stuff." He caught her eyes as he opened the door. "It won't happen again."

 _Her hands are shaking in her pockets. Fuck._

"I don't think you need to worry about that," she bit out, following him into the back.

The room was dark, with a single filament bulb to the side providing barely enough light to see. Boxes lined either side of the small space, with some stacked as high as the ceiling. Cobwebs and loose paperwork were the room's only decorations.

Harry walked closer to the dangling bulb and set his bag on the desk beneath it.

Jinx audibly ground her teeth from close behind him.

 _Maybe just let her vent?_

"I could _fire_ you, you know?" She took another deliberate step forward when Harry didn't turn and face her. The low light cast deep shadows across her face. "Actually, fuck _could._ You _are_ fired, Harry. Get the hell out of here."

 _There goes that idea._

Harry sighed and turned around. He had undone the top three buttons of his shirt, getting ready to put on his Mini Mart uniform. Adjusting his glasses, he looked closely at Jinx.

"We've talked about this," he began, eyes softening in concern. She really looked bad tonight.

 _Have you been crying?_

"We aren't going to work unless we're honest with each other, Jinx." Her eyes had widened, the bitterness leaking out in the form of tears to be replaced by a mix of other emotions. He closed the short gap between them, encircling her with his arms protectively. She was stiff in his embrace. They were about the same height, so he had no problem locking eyes with her.

 _I made you cry..._

"You were afraid, right?" he asked. Jinx tensed even further in his arms, but stayed silent. "That I wouldn't show up tonight? Or tomorrow? Or ever again?"

She choked on a sob, burying her head into the crook of his neck to cry while fisting great handfuls of his shirt.

 _Idiot..._

He held the older girl close, rubbing slow, calming circles into her back. He ignored her tears and snot as they made a mess of his button-up, weathering his girlfriend's breakdown in silence. Despite the reason she was there, her softness still felt lovely in his arms. Her warmth and sorrow and mutually comforting embrace brought an unexpected wetness to _his_ eyes, though he stopped himself from actually crying.

 _'The Power of Physical Contact,' huh?_

Jinx's sobs began to die off, getting replaced by shuddey breaths as she tried to settle herself. She sniffled against the hollow of Harry's bared collarbone. Her painted black nails released their stranglehold on his shirt.

"It's okay," Harry whispered, sliding one hand up to cradle the back of Jinx's neck. Rubbing his thumb along the wisps on her nape, he tried to let the tension bleed out of his body.

She sighed in his arms and said, her voice a bit muffled against his neck, "This isn't fair to you. This isn't fair to you at _all._ " Pulling back to stare into his iridescent eyes, green and haunting and so much like _that_ traffic light had been, Jinx shook her head, her voice cracking as she continued. "It's been two months, Harry. Aren't you sick of this yet? Apologizing for what _should_ be nothing? You were barely late for God's sake!"

 _Whatthefuck?_

Harry pressed a quick finger to Jinx's lips, stopping her cold, and closed his eyes in an effort to calm himself. "Late is late is late, Jinx. Don't minimize shit that bugs you just so you look like the bad guy, okay?" He removed his finger and opened his eyes, a light frown on his lips. "And don't give me this 'sick of me yet' shit, either. Between that and the talk about what's 'fair' for me, you're gonna piss me off."

 _Two puddles of blood became one and inched closer. What's 'Fair' is going to be much worse than a girlfriend with abandonment issues when if finally catches up to me._

She blinked and started to shake her head, but Harry just squeezed lightly at the nape of her neck, letting her know he wasn't done yet. Her eyes stared into his vulnerably.

"Just 'cause stuff isn't perfect doesn't mean it's not still worth fighting for. Do you know what I'm saying?"

The older girl lowered her gaze, sniffing. "It means you still want to be together?"

 _Oh Jinx..._

His anger left him. "It means I _always_ want to be together." He hugged her closer. "Even it means stuff isn't always gonna be just peaches and cream, it's still... It's still..." He struggled for the words.

Jinx nuzzled into his embrace and meekly joked, "I know what you're trying to say. We both kind of suck at the whole 'functioning adult' thing. At least, I know I do. Having you helps. It's why I'm still here."

 _Don't say that..._

"At the same time though, having stuff to care about again, after so long..." She laughed half-heartedly, pulling back a bit. "I guess I've gotten pretty bad at it. You get used to not having anyone after a while, and when you finally do get someone again, it's like, as soon as you're away from them, you start to worry- go crazy. I-if that makes any kind of sense."

"It does," Harry assured her, sliding his hands down to rest more comfortably on her hips. "You mean a lot to me too."

She looked at him tenderly and leaned in, pecking his lips.

He responded by squeezing her hips a little closer, but she pulled away, stepping out of his grip with a quiet giggle.

"Later," she said, grabbing some tissues from a box on the desk. Wiping at her chestnut colored eyes and blowing her nose, Jinx added, with a quick glance at her wrist, "If we're not too tired, anyway. It's already fifteen till. There's a lot of work to do. Thank God this place is always so dead at night."

Sighing at the fleeting warmth on his skin, Harry just nodded. Stripping out of his normal clothes and into his uniform as quickly as he could, catching Jinx biting her lip while she watched, he did his best to minimize the impact their late start would have on the job.

He stocked the Mini Mart's shelves as quickly as he could, using his previous experience (from three years ago) as an employee at a larger grocery store to get the job done. Jinx spent most of the night's shift in the back room, reviewing shipment details, placing orders for more stock, and attending to her other managerial duties. This meant that Harry was also left to ring up the few customers that did stumble in during the night, not that he minded much. Jinx played Nirvana and Green Day over the store's speaker system to show her appreciation.

Sunlight had began to seep in through the Mini Mart's windowed side, peeking up and over the grey expanse of concrete buildings beyond. It was close, but they had managed to chew through their respective piles of work by the time the next shift arrived. Holding the door for Jinx with his foot, Harry waved lazily over his shoulder at the morning crew as they left, back in their normal clothes.

 _You can still see where she cried._

Letting the door swing shut behind him, Harry threw an arm around Jinx's shoulders, reeling her in closer. It was the middle of summer, but that didn't stop the mornings from getting just a hair too cold to be comfortable. Jinx leaned into his side with a tired sigh that turned into a yawn halfway through.

"You can say that again," Harry said, fighting off the urge to yawn as well. Fishing around in his pocket, he withdrew his pack of cigarettes without breaking stride. Biting the butt of one, he let the rest fall back into the pack. Shoving his hand back in his pocket, he swapped the pack out for his lighter, a plain transparent-red affair, and lit up.

Jinx watched enamored as he took a long drag, blowing the smoke away from them with a sigh, and let out a tired giggle. Wrapping an arm of her own around Harry's narrow waist, she observed, in a sing-song voice, "My apartment's the _other_ way, you know?"

"Mmm," Harry hummed, balancing his cigarette between his fingers. "I know."

Jinx smiled wide enough to close her eyes, the lines on her face disappearing. Leaning her head back onto his shoulder, she walked the rest of the way in silence, listening to his deep breaths as he smoked.

Harry stayed silent too.

 _This is nice..._

It wasn't a very long walk from the Mini Mart to his apartment, and Harry found himself finishing his smoke just as they arrived. It was tall, more than fifty stories up, and the same drab grey as the rest of its surroundings. Air conditioning units peppered the windows, adding to the cramped, cookie-cutter feel of the place.

 _Home, sweet home._

At least it was cheap.

After a quick (if precarious) elevator ride up to the twenty fifth floor, and a short moment spent muttering darkly as Harry tried to unlock his door, his key just _barely_ a match for the lock, they were inside and alone.

His apartment was small. A combined kitchen-dining room lay to the left, with a small square area of carpet serving as the 'living room' to the right. Down the hall was a bathroom, a closet, and the apartment's sole bedroom.

"You hung it up?" Jinx asked as they entered the bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights. She was looking at her tulip painting, which Harry had hung over his bed.

Harry dropped his bag and sat down, untying his shoes.

"Yeah. You said I needed some decorations, right? You don't think it's cheesy that I put it above my bed, do you?"

Jinx crawled onto his bed as well, kicking her shoes off at the heels without bothering to untie them. She stretched across his mattress on her back, looking up at her work.

"No. I'm flattered."

Harry slid his shoes under the bed, stripping off his socks as well and tossing them into the dirty clothes hamper in a wad. Looking behind him, he watched Jinx relax into a pillow, still staring sleepily up at the painting. Flipping his legs up onto the bed, Harry rolled over and threw an arm around her belly. Scooting closer till there was no more space between their clothed bodies, Harry sighed into Jinx's neck and closed his eyes.

"Harry?" she asked, sliding her own arm over the one he'd thrown over her.

He kissed her neck and mumbled. "Let's sleep."

Jinx smiled into his hair. "You brought me back here just for that?"

He tightened his arm around her belly. "I sleep better when you're here. You're warm."

Jinx blushed, her eyes heavy with affection and fatigue.

"Okay. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight baby."

They were both sound asleep a few minutes later.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away from the peacefully sleeping couple, a girl woke up crying. Her room looked like a disaster area, with piles of dirty clothes strewn about, the shredded scraps of drawings and animated photos scattered randomly atop them, and thick blankets nailed over her windows, blocking the rising sun's light from entering her dark, self-made tomb.

The crying girl was tall and pencil thin, save for her large bust, and had messy blonde hair that framed her unfocused blue eyes in a matted mess. Dark red rings circled around her eyes, only growing more pronounced as she rubbed at her tears.

 _Dead in his bed. Red and dead. Off with his head. Now both my folks are dead._

She giggled, and then immediately clenched her teeth, panting hard and spraying spittle onto her bare mattress. She pinched the skin on her arm with her long nails, drawing blood.

"Luna, dear!" a voice called faintly from down the stairs, the reason she's awoken so suddenly.

 _Mrs. Weasley, come to deceive me. It'll all be okay- that's what she'll say, and if I say nay, they'll take me away._

The girl released her arm and sprang from her bed with unnatural grace. Landing silently on her bare toes, she held out her hand and summoned her wand. Twirling the twisted stick over her twice, the room began to set itself back to order. The laundry became odorless and sent itself folded into her dresser drawers. The shredded scraps of paper mended themselves and adhered to her walls. The thick blankets unnailed themselves and dressed her bed, finally letting light back into her room.

Another double twirl, and her body began to change as well.

The puffy redness under her eyes faded away, leaving smooth paleness behind. Her hair untangled and straightened itself. Her breath lost its odor. Her eyes were no longer bloodshot.

By the time her overbearing neighbor made it up the stairs, Luna Lovegood had erased all traces of her manic grief, and even met the plump redhead at her door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," she greeted quietly, careful to add a pinch of life to her voice. "Thank you for coming over and checking on me."

The woman before her blinked in concern, scanning up and down her and her room for any signs of trouble. She frowned, though Luna couldn't begin to guess why- she'd been meticulous in her clean-up, and nothing was out of order.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Weasley finally greeted her back. "But there's no need to thank me. It's only right that someone comes over to make sure you're okay."

 _Hahaaha!_

Luna bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood and offered the woman her most sincere smile. "I still appreciate it, Mrs. Weasley. It's barely sunup and you're already over here. I hate to think that I'm disturbing your rest."

Mrs. Weasley's look of suspicion was replaced by a kind smile. "You're such a polite girl, Luna," she said, obviously intending a compliment. "I'm so happy seeing how strong you're being. I can't imagine how difficult all this must be for you."

 _No, I don't think so._

Mrs. Weasley trailed off as Luna continued to stare at her blankly. Shuffling her feet, the mother of seven was slow to continue. "Luna... I know that the service was just a few days ago, but I want you to really think about our offer. There's no rush, dear, or any kind of time-limit. Just remember that if you ever wanted to stay over, Arthur and I will always have space for you at The Burrow, for as little or as long as you need."

Luna looked searchingly into her neighbor's eyes.

 _You're serious? You're serious..._

Itchy wetness irritated the backs of her eyeballs, and she had to close them to keep from crying. Making the motion look deliberate, she said, with some genuine warmth, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. For your offer and... and for everything else you and your family have done for me." Her eyes had dried beneath her lids, so she opened them once again to look at the plump woman. "Maybe I will swing by- either this summer or next. For now, though, I'd really just like to stay here, if that's okay?"

Mrs. Weasley looked conflicted. "But you'll be here alone, dear. Will you be okay?"

 _No._

"Yes. D-dad, uh, he was... near the end, um. Well, I know how to feed and take care of myself, and maintain the house and all of that stuff too. I've been doing it for a while now."

"That's not..." Mrs. Weasley began, before trailing off again. "Nevermind. It's good to hear that you'll be okay, dear."

 _Can't you see that I won't? Just offer it one more time, and I'll cave. Please, please, please, don't leave me here._

Luna's expressionless eyes bored into Mrs. Weasley's.

"Anyway dear, be sure that you're feeding yourself properly. It's when we want to eat the least that it's the most important that we do, after all."

Luna's lips formed a beautiful smile. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you again so much for stopping by. It's very nice of you."

The older woman looked as though some undefinable instinct of hers was going off, but instead of giving it a voice she just nodded, and, after a few more pleasant farewells, showed herself out.

When the front door had been closed for exactly 120 seconds, Luna turned around and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her.

Grabbing an old rubber mallet from under her bed, she began nailing her blankets back over her windows, a steady stream of tears running down her face.


End file.
